The Twistt of Life
by The Symbol of Faith
Summary: After the events of the fourth year, harry stumbles upon a long lost friend, in his most hated professors house. Perceptions are changing, misconceptions are being cleared, and old friendships re - surfacing. The golden trio - now quartet - yet again have a hair raising mystery on their hands.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue.

Harry paced around his room, waiting for Hedwig to return with a reply from Ron and Hermione. School had got over two weeks ago and harry had been writing almost every day. But not once had he gotten an answer. Harry soon got tired of this one sided conversation and his patience turned to anger before slowly ebbing into anxiety. 'Why had they not written back to him?' he wondered.

He turned to open the window when heard a tapping sound and was relieved to see Hedwig with a scroll tied to her leg. But when he unrolled the parchment, he realised it was not from Ron or Hermione, but from Dumbledore. He quickly read it wondering what the Headmaster would write to him about.

Dear Harry, (he read)

This is regarding your safety and I hope you will not take it lightly. I must request you not to write to your friends as the conversations may not be private. You might be having company soon. Also, keep your remarkable cloak with you wherever you go. Be careful, these are dangerous times.

Yours sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore.

Harry crumpled the note and threw into a corner of his already messy room. Grumbling, he took his invisibility cloak from his school trunk, which, as always, was unpacked. Carrying it with him as advised by Dumbledore, he went downstairs to tell his Uncle that there might be someone from 'his lot' who may come to their house soon. Just how much soon is _soon_, Harry wondered.

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><p><em>'<em>_Harry Potter' a cold voice hissed as his eyes took in the cloaked and masked people in front of him. '_Again_. Once again that boy has slipped from my clutches. _Crucio!_' He pointed his wand at a random Death eater and the wizard fell to his knees and gave a gasp of pain before totally writhing on the ground. Even after the curse was lifted of him the man continued to twitch._

_Voldemort closed his eyes, recollecting the unusual phenomenon in the graveyard at Little Hangleton and wondered, was it so that the boy was more powerful than him? No, he quickly banished the thought, must have been luck and pure chance. Something that accompanied the boy every time – Luck._

_'__As you can see,' Voldemort continued in his cold voice, 'our numbers have decreased. Many of my loyal Death Eaters have been imprisoned in Azkaban. So, I want you to make yourselves a little useful and find a way to break in to free them –' an involuntary shudder passed through many of the Death Eaters at the prospect of entering Azkaban, ' – or face my wrath.'_

_A chorus of 'Yes Master' greeted his ears and he dismissed them._

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><p>Harry woke up in the middle of the night from a very terrifying nightmare, drenched in sweat. For the first time he had not revisited the graveyard in Little Hangleton and watched Cedric Diggory get killed, but this nightmare was, if possible worse. If he understood correctly, then Voldemort was planning to free the Death Eaters from Azkaban!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2 - Letter

**AN: Hi, this is the second chapter! my updates will be far spaced, since I've got my matrix exam coming up. this my first time writing fan fiction so advice will be helpful. English is not my first language so please pardon any grammar mistakes. Please review.**

**Disclaimer: Since each fic seems to have this line - I Don't Own Harry Potter.**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Two weeks into his vacations, Harry realized that he wouldn't be getting any letters from his friends. After receiving the pseudo confirmation from Dumbledore, Harry withdrew into his room, coming out only for meals and to use the rest room. So much so, that even aunt Petunia realized something was wrong.

"Alright, that's it, young man!" aunt Petunia slammed the soup ladle onto the table as soon as Harry sat down for breakfast. Seeing how Harry was always first down for breakfast and Dudley and Uncle Vernon were still snoring, she kept her voice low.

Harry was thankful for that; he didn't want to hear his aunt's screeching voice early morning. He wondered what she wanted now. He had kept out of her hair for the three and half weeks he was here, not made much noise, eaten, cleaned his own room, and now even his nightmares had increased to leave dull lifeless eyes and dark circles under them when he woke in the morning. But he always made sure to smother his screams. He told her so.

"Exactly! That's not normal, or right," she said. She obviously wanted to say something more when he cut her off commenting wryly –

"And _when_ have you ever considered me normal aunt Petunia?"

She sighed. Pulling out one of the chairs, she sat down facing him.

"Harry, I may not…er…love you like my own son, or even as a nephew. But, the fact remains that you _are_ my nephew. And I don't think what's going on is right. You are hardly eating, sleeping and you almost never leave the room."

He stilled on hearing his aunt's words. He knew she didn't love him, but to hear it aloud…

He scoffed, "You never cared about it before. In fact, how many times have you yourself locked me in? Care to count?"

She blinked, an odd emotion flicking through her eyes, before she replied, "Yes, I must admit you are right. Though previously you would put up a fight, sneak food from the kitchen – do not deny it – and I would have to wake you up in the morning myself. Now it is almost every night you wake up screaming-"

"What? How did you know? I-I-"

"You may _try_ to stop screaming, but that does not mean you _don't_. But that is not what troubles me. It is what you scream… I've never liked your mother. You could say I was jealous of her. But she was still my sister, and there was a time when we were inseparable. And now I'm afraid my jealousy and dislike for her transferred to you. For that… I'm sorry… if you will ever forgive me, I don't know… but know that I'm sorry…"

Harry looked at her, trying to see if she meant those words. He looked into her eyes and realized what that emotion he had seen meant – it was regret, and shame; regret for what she had put him through before and shame at herself for not letting go childhood resentment for his mother.

He decided to ignore his aunt's plea for forgiveness, at least for now; after all, she did treat him unfairly for years, and it was not like he could let bygones be bygones so quickly. He asked another question instead.

"What do you mean by 'my screams'?"

His aunt sighed, as if she expected not to be forgiven so easily. "I had never heard you sound so desperate before, pleading, so I went to check one night, and after that, every night since. It's usually the same words, 'No! Don't kill Cedric, please, spare him' and sometimes 'Please don't be dead Ginny, please don't be dead' and now recently, you've been crying out for _her_. Asking her to help you, to –" her voice broke here "– to love you, to be with you."

His throat ran dry, because what she was saying was true. After seeing Voldemort return, he also started having dreams of the Chamber of Secrets, and yes, _dammit_, he had been crying out for _her_. Like a small child, he had been crying for his mother. And to think that aunt Petunia had heard it. Was that what made her change her mind? That he was not sweet, perfect Lily, but her son? A boy, who had not lived a perfect life, who had nightmares of people dying at such a young age? Did she realise that he had to plead for the life of his friend, and his best friend's sister?

"Is that why you are talking to me like a normal person now, aunt Petunia? Because you realised that I've faced horrors no one should have faced?"

"You're just a boy! I'll admit it now; no one should have to face such a thing. Hearing you plead for someone to be alive… yes, that's what broke me. It made me realise I couldn't hate you anymore – "

Then something in him snapped, "Then how could you hate her? How could you blame mum 'for getting blown up'? Do you even know what happened that night? No! You don't! Did you know that she begged – begged! – that monster for my life? To kill her instead–"

Then suddenly she had her arms around him and he was sobbing dry tears into her shoulder. One hand of hers started running her fingers through his mop of hair, and soon he fell asleep from exhaustion.

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><p>When Harry woke again, it was evening. The rays of the setting sun of poured in through his window. And that's when he jerked upright. Something was wrong about the window. Of course! The bars! They were gone. After it had been pulled out before his second year, he had returned to find the re fixed. It seemed as if his aunt had them removed earlier today. Yes, definitely today, since they were there when he had woken up.<p>

He got out of bed and made his way to the wash room. His face was still pale, but he looked better, more… fresh. His throat however was parched. He crept down the stairs to find that his aunt was the only one there. She looked up from her magazine when he entered.

"Ah, good. You're up. Thirsty?" she asked smiling. Not waiting for a reply, he walked into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. Not that he minded of course.

He followed her and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. Taking a sip from the glass she handed him, he asked, "Where's uncle Vernon? And Dudley?" His voice came out hoarse.

"They've gone to the supermarket. I'm running low on my cleaning supplies."

He nodded and the after hesitating a bit asked about the bars. Her face brightened, "Oh, I told Vernon to remove them yesterday, when you were sleeping."

"'Yesterday?!" But that meant…

"Yes, you were asleep for one and a half day. You must have been exhausted. No nightmares either."

They spent a comfortable evening in each other's company. She told him stories about her childhood, and they laughed together at some of his mother's accidental magic exploits. She slowly loosened up and her smiles became warmer. When Dudley and uncle Vernon returned, they retired to the living room to watch the telly and left aunt and nephew to catch up on 14 years' worth of conversation.

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><p>His stay at no. 4, Privet Drive drastically improved and for the first time he began enjoying his summer holidays. It was a week after that that something turned up which truly surprised as well as confused him.<p>

He had been eating breakfast with his family (yes, he could actually call them family now, instead of relatives) when the sound of letters, being pushed through the slit in the door, was heard. He got up, since he was already done.

There were the usual bills of course, a letter for Dudley (perhaps from a school friend?) and finally one for him. He was surprised. Dumbledore had told him he wouldn't be receiving letters from anyone this summer, then who would have sent him one? He returned and gave the letters to the respective people before carefully examining the envelope for clues. Years of playing pseudo detectives with his best friends left him with quite a few skills.

He first checked the address. The handwriting was not one he was familiar with. The paper was thick, almost like… parchment! Wait, the address should have told him if it was delivered by an owl. Ah! Of course –

To,

Harry Potter,

_The smallest bedroom_,

No.4, Privet Drive,

Little Whinging,

Surrey.

He was now sure it was sent by someone magical. Only owl posts had such precise addresses. Honestly, who would ever write his _bedroom_ on the envelope? And the letter had also arrived in the same way his Hogwarts acceptance letter had. That meant he did not know the owner of the writer or the writer thought him to be a muggle (which was unlikely, one of the _perks_ of being famous).

But, then why would one glamour the parchment to look like ordinary paper? For it was surely glamoured, he could feel a layer of magic coating it, trying to make it appear normal. It was well done, for muggles to overlook it, but not someone who knew magic. And the ink, it was clearly a quill ink and not a ball point pen ink.

Ignoring his aunt's look at how he kept turning and squinting at the letter, he carefully opened it.

_Dear Harry, _

_I don't know if you remember me, but I'm hoping you do for this may sound selfish, but I need you; your company, your friendship –_

Harry paused, who was this? The writing did seem familiar, but the way it was written it sounded as they were bosom friends.

_ – __I – I've returned to England. My father, he… he just __got ki __passed away,_

Big fat tear drops had clearly fallen here, and it looked as if her father did not _pass away_ if her crossed out words were any indication.

_and I've come to live with my uncle. It's just like how I used to stay with my grand-mere, you know. I'm fine here. Doing okay _(another tear drop) _and… oh I'm rambling. I returned from France 3 days ago. My __l'école __there was grand. Remember I told you about it… when we were 8 or 9…_

8 or 9? Who was this… oh! It couldn't be! Or could it? She had disappeared, or rather left England when she was 10 years old. Left for France, to go to her school there. He remembered asking her why she couldn't go to a High School here, in England. So that they could see each other again, but she told it was a different… special school in France. Now he understood, it must have been Beauxbatons.

_My uncle's house is huge; it has to be it was our family house. It would technically belong to __Mon_ _père __but since he's dead… _(Family house? She must have been a pure blood) _it is in Edinburgh, the house, I mean. And the countryside is wonderful. There's a small wood behind the house. It's part of the property. Mon __père __would __have __loved_ _it_ _here…_

_I know I have not written in long while, and we cannot go back to being the siblings we were then, but please write to me? I have friends back in France, but none of them were as close to as you were… are, even after 5 years. I know we got separated because of me shifting, but I won't let that come between us again. I… I've kept a secret from you for a long time._ (Secret that she was a witch?)_ I was afraid it would separate us… but now I don't think so. I want to talk to you Harry; I want to pour my heart out to you. Be all sentimental and sappy like we were before _( there were a few more tears here that threatened to smudge the words, but she must have used the non-smudging ink) _I will be going to a school in England _(was it Hogwarts?)_ like you've always wanted. And we will be able to communicate again. I'm sending my address on a piece of __parch paper, if you consider writing to me. Please, brother, write to me._

_Your loving sister(?),_

_Ella._

He sighed and looked up to see his aunt, uncle and cousin looking at him inquisitively. "An old friend I never thought, I'd hear from again. Apparently she shifted back to England since her father passed away. She wants to know if she will ever hear from me again… after she gave no explanation as to why she disappeared."

"Did she leave you her address?" his aunt asked.

"Yes." He gave her the small piece of parchment he found inside the envelope.

She looked at it –

Louella Prince,

No. 8, Royal House,

Willow Lane,

Edinburgh.

It was a simple address, not too fancy and seemed respectable.

"Do you want to write to her?"

"We were… close, like siblings. And she has finally returned. But it was a long time ago, I don't even know what to say to her any more. She may be different now. So… I guess I really don't know. What do you think?"

"Your mother," she began slowly "tried to mend things between us after we got married. But it was such a long time since we had last spoken, that I never replied to a single letter of hers in cowardice. If I had… who knows what would have happened?"

"So... you are telling me to write her back?"

"Yes, although that's not all that is troubling you, is it?"

"It seems that the reason she left was because she was a witch."

He looked at his aunt. Her face had a frown on it. What irony, that his mother and aunt had separated for the same reason Ella had left him for - Magic.

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><p><strong>AN: How is it? Ella is going to play an important part in the story. I'm trying to make her character a little like a typical Slytherin that easily fits with Harry's own inner Slytherin. I would appreciate some help with that.<strong>


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